A Question of Choice
by sholvakree
Summary: Shepard faces the last and most agonizing decision of her life. A rewrite/alternate interpretation of the Catalyst scene.


**Author's note: **I originally wrote this as part of a larger rewrite of "Priority: Earth" for the Mass Effect LJ Big Bang, but I had to back out of the challenge due to time constraints. I still feel quite strongly about this fic (and the ending of _Mass Effect 3_ in general), so I'm putting what I wrote up here as a one shot. Some things are the same, and a lot of things are different. This fic begins right after Shepard is lifted up to the Catalyst platform; for the intents and purposes of this fic, the Leviathan DLC is **not** considered canon.

* * *

"-ke –p."

_There was a sound in the dark._

"Co-nder Sh-p-d, -ake up."

_Someone's calling for me._

"Commander Shepard, wake up."

**_WAKE UP_**_._

Korana snapped back to consciousness and was surprised to find that she was pain-free. Then she remembered the extent of her injuries.

Complete desensitivity could only mean one thing.

_Well it was only a matter of time, anyways, _she thought with an eerie sense of calm. _And how many people get to die twice? _

She looked up and could only stare in awe at the sight of the Crucible docked with the Citadel. The device towered past Shepard's greatly reduced line of sight; a huge beam of energy spat and crackled from the tip of the machine downwards into the Council Spire. Aside from four gargantuan clamps that reached towards the Crucible's emitter (perhaps mass field stabilizers?), she could not see any other machinery on the platform, and there was nothing that looked like a control device, either. Shepard _could_ see the raging battle taking place in Earth's atmosphere, and the aftermath of bright flames and floating wreckage.

The Crucible may have failed, but the galaxy was still fighting on, maybe in vain – but it was their choice…_our_ choice to do so.

It was a strangely beautiful sight.

_If this is the last thing I ever see…well, it's not a bad thing to go out on._

Her eyelids started to droop.

"Commander Shepard, you must get up."

_There was that voice again_ – _it was coming from all around her._

"There are things we need to discuss."

_I still have a job to do…_

Shepard forced her eyes open again. She had little strength left, but she managed to wobble back onto two legs, her motor neurons clearly still functioning though she couldn't really "feel" what they were doing. Her left arm was barely responsive, so she pitifully clutched it against her diaphragm and hoped for the best.

A little ball of light materialized in front of Shepard. It suddenly expanded into a large amorphous blob and began…_flipping_ through things, changing its shape. A lot of figures she didn't recognize – a lizard looking thing, a gangly creature with two creatures and large wings – but some of them she _did _recognize.

Turian. Elcor. Hanar. Asari.

Human.

And when the thing finally settled on a form, Shepard was standing face-to-face with a young boy.

The entity looked almost exactly like the child she had failed to save on Earth.

Even in her injured state, Shepard was still capable of shuddering.

"Greetings, Commander. I am the Catalyst."

Great. Now Korana felt dead _and_ confused. "I…I thought the Ci-tadel was the Cata-lyst," she replied in a broken whisper.

"Incorrect. While the Citadel is my home and does have a critical role in the activation of the Crucible, the Catalyst's primary responsibilities rest with me."

"So what-" Shepard suddenly doubled over and hacked up two splotches of blood. When she recovered, she didn't bother wiping her mouth. "What are you?"

"I am an AI that was created by the Reapers for two purposes: first, to monitor the mass relay system and keep track of every single device, flagging any relay that becomes inoperable or is moved into an area too dangerous even for the Old Machines; second, to collate data on the evolution of the organic species of each cycle, and convert that data into a tactical plan which my masters could use to ensure that every harvest was completed as efficiently as possible."

"An AI li-ving in the Citadel?" Shepard couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Why haven't we detected you before now? And why didn't you stop us from taking out Sovereign?"

"To answer your second question, the program given to you by the Vigil on Ilos was actually meant for me. Even though the Citadel is Reaper technology, the congregation of new organics during each cycle adds hardware and software components to the station that hinder the Vanguard's ability to properly interface with the relevant systems, and the Reapers don't always have the knowledge or the patience to deal with that. I, on the other hand, have had more than ample time to learn your languages and coding schemes. When the Vanguard arrives at the Citadel I receive certain confirmation codes and then interface with the Reaper delegate. I pass on any relevant coding information to the Vanguard, who can then activate the Citadel relay with greater ease; once the relay to dark space is opened and the remainder of the fleet arrives, the Vanguard disseminates this information to the collective. To answer your first question…" It sniffed dismissively. "You weren't looking hard enough. As it is, the Reapers built a multitude of hardware and software safeguards into the Citadel that prevent me from making my presence known. One of the Keepers' functions is to ensure that those safeguards are maintained."

"So how…am I ta-lking to you now?" asked Shepard.

"The Crucible. There is an override mechanism built into the architecture of the device. I am completely at your disposal, at least as it relates to the operation of the Crucible. Ifyou seek answers as to the nature and origin of the Reapers…" It smiled. "…you will find me less than forthcoming. And in all honesty, my records show that Sovereign put it more eloquently than I ever could."

"Fair enough," said Shepard, fighting to keep her eyes open. "What exactly are you offering me?"

"This isn't about what **I **am offering **you**," it said, shaking its head. "This is about what **you** have created for **yourselves**."

* * *

The Catalyst's image flickered momentarily and the child was gone, replaced by…a familiar scientist salarian.

It turned to look up at the Crucible, one hand on its chin.

Mordin looked exactly the same as when he'd entered the Shroud elevator on Tuchanka.

Though physical pain seemed lost to her, Shepard's heart twisted with pains of a different sort.

_Holy shit._

And if _seeing_ Mordin wasn't bad enough, the Catalyst started _talking_ just like him too – in his voice, even.

"Fascinating, simply fascinating, heard rumors of this during the previous cycle, masters passed it off as impossible, negligible, not worth further exploration, hmm, yes…ah! Can see what Protheans were attempting, can see why Citadel…hmm, those would require dissemination for vector corrections, local cluster adjustments…can't be helped. And will there be enough left to salvage, much less work…hard to tell."

It turned back to face Shepard. It seemed perplexed at her expression until it remembered that it was impersonating her dead friend.

"Ah, Commander wonders how, why I take this form: Mordin Solus ID collated from Collector base footage, field unit observations, recordings obtained from Alliance and STG databases on the Citadel, thought familiar face would stimulate brain, keep body from failing before you'd received necessary data, practical consideration, not malicious attempt to hurt or distract you, remember, am bound by Crucible to serve you in this." It paused. "Returning to original form."

Shepard could only nod her head in acknowledgement.

A flicker of light and the little boy was back.

"You have done well with the construction of the Crucible, Commander. I must admit…I am impressed." It turned to look at the sky. "But enough pleasantries. My calculations project that your fleet lines will break in seven minutes, and the Crucible's shields can only endure three minutes of direct, sustained bombardment from Reaper capital ships. "

"So…what ex-actly is this thing…and what…what can it do?"

There was a deep humming sound at Shepard's feet, and she watched uncertainly as a glowing semicircle of panels materialized in front of her.

"The Crucible is essentially a gigantic battery filled with raw energy," began the Catalyst. "The Citadel emits said energy at certain wavelengths and quantum harmonics depending on what you wish to do with it. The energy is then transferred across the entire galaxy by means of the mass relays and I, as the Catalyst, coordinate this energy transfer across the entire relay network." It hesitated. "This requires…the –_careful_– dissipation of the element zero cores in each relay in order to ensure maximum coverage." It noticed the alarm on Shepard's face. "Do not be concerned; using the Crucible won't be a repeat of the Alpha Relay incident – this is a _controlled_ detonation. The relay network _will_ be **severely** damaged, however…maybe even rendered inoperable."

"But that means…" Shepard croaked. "The fleet will be stranded here…I mean, some of them might make it home in a few _years_ but…and dextro food…the quarians just got home and now they must wait _decades_ _more_ to see it again.

The Crucible, sensing Shepard's distress, was quick to answer. "Fortunately, the Crucible's activation requires that my programming is disseminated along with the energy wave in order to properly align every relay for each individual energy transfer. I can try to save some power in the cores for ships to make a minimal number of trips. I can also transfer any necessary data on mass relay physics and construction to one of your vessel's mainframes." It paused for a moment. "I will make no guarantees, however. The primary target objective remains the dissemination of the wave. Everything else is secondary."

"I understand…but thank you," replied Shepard, cautiously satisfied with its answers.

"As to what the Crucible can do…option one lies right in front of you," said the Catalyst, gesturing at the holographic controls. "You can destroy the Reapers."

"What do you mean 'option one?'" said Shepard with annoyance. "Let me do it so I can be done with the bastards." She leaned over the panel to her left.

"There is a catch, Shepard-Commander."

When Shepard turned back to face the Catalyst, she found herself staring at Legion's eye.

"The Crucible was built to destroy not just the Reapers, but all synthetic life in the galaxy." It pointed at Shepard. "Including partially synthetic organisms like yourself."

"Why would it-"

"The knowledge and understanding necessary for tailoring the Crucible for Reaper specificity would require an intensive study of their technology resulting in a 99.99% rate of indoctrination for all participants, even with augmented safety procedures and additional security. Additionally, the Prothean scientists building the Crucible remembered the conflicts with synthetics during the Metacon War and concluded that any similar lifeforms created in future cycles would most likely side with the Reapers after the Arrival. Indiscriminatingly targeting synthetic beings was the simpler and safer option. While I do have the capability to alter the frequency of the Crucible's carrier wave to specifically target the Reapers, the protocol requires additional components that the Crucible does not have available."

_I can be ruthless when the situation calls for it, _thought Shepard,_ but…_genocide?

"What's option two?" said Shepard wearily, gritting her teeth.

_*flicker*_

"An Admiral's specialty," replied the Catalyst, now masquerading as Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. "The Crucible can be configured to emit a pulse that permanently disables any device producing a kinetic barrier. The Reapers would no longer be able to use their shields…"

"…but neither will the fleets," finished Shepard. "I didn't think we could win a conventional fight."

"It is…_improbable_ that your combined forces could win a substantial victory over the Reapers. And even if you did prevail, it is unlikely that there would be enough survivors to sustain viable populations for your advanced civilizations."

"This keeps getting better and better," said Shepard, exhaustion and death gaining ground with every passing second. "What else is there?"

_*flicker*_

"Control. Absolute control."

_The Illusive Man looked well for a man who was currently a corpse several hundred meters below. _

"There was a faction of the Protheans who that believed that salvation lay not in the destruction of the Reapers, but in their mastery." The Catalyst sucked on its cigar. "Your 'friend' here thought he had the strength to accomplish such a thing."

"Could the Illusive Man have controlled the Reapers?"

The Catalyst's eyes narrowed. "No. We had his mind. It would have been impossible. But _you_ can do it."

"So…how exactly would I control…the Reapers?"

The Catalyst pointed towards the beam of energy at the center of the platform. "The Crucible contains a matter-energy conversion device that has the ability to transmute organic material while maintaining the physiological patterns of the subject in question – specifically, the ones pertaining to your neural network. Your brain map would then be disseminated into every piece of Reaper technology across the gal-"

"Wait, wait…stop now…" began Shepard, her stomach dropping at the realization. "You mean to control the Reapers…I would have to**become **one?"

"Not just one Reaper. _All_ of them. It is the only way to ensure that your control is permanent and absolute. Think about it Commander. By taking control of the Reapers, you could ascend to something greater than yourself – think of all the **power** that you would wield in such a form; and not just in one Reaper, over **all **of them, **all **at once…"

Shepard cut the AI off by contemptuously spitting blood at its feet.

"Obviously there is something about this that you take issue with." The Catalyst returned to being the small boy. "If you're worried about dying, do not be afraid; the process is painless, even if your body still had the capacity to feel pain. And you would still be alive, just without corporeal for- oh, I see. Dying is not the issue here. You are concerned about losing your humanity. And about whether you'd succumb to the influences of your newfound might."

"You learn fast," replied Shepard, surprised that she was able to muster _any_ form of sarcasm while on the verge of death. She glanced back up at the Crucible. "Is there anything else that this machine we built is capable of?"

The Catalyst gave her a look that was almost…_nervous_. The bastard was even shuffling on its holographic feet. Shepard closed her eyes, and spoke the words she feared she would regret. "**You**…have an idea, I take it?"

"…I fear that you would not trust the motives of one whose entire existence has been to serve and protect the interests of the Reapers."

"Well…all three…options I've 'presented' seem to…s-uck, the Crucible's on-ly got about five minutes left and I'll pro…probably be dead before then, so as much as it pains me to admit this…I'm open to suggestions."

_*flicker*_

"The Reapers have always desired the ascension of organic beings," began not-EDI, "and up until this point, their vision has been achieved through the periodic harvesting of galactic civilizations, and raising them up to perfection through Reaper technology. However, your brokering of the peace between the quarians and the geth shows that organics have independently taken the first step towards the perfection so desired by the Reapers." It hesitated. "I could…_accelerate_ this process, should you desire it."

_I suspect I won't like this either._ "What…**exactly**…do you mean by…'accelerate'?"

"When Cerberus rebuilt you during the Lazarus Project, they used Reaper technology as part of the process. We can use that technology as the basis for a synthesis of the organic and the artificial – essentially creating a new DNA…actually that's not correct. Something **superior** to DNA, something never before witnessed in this galaxy."

"So…you're saying that I'd – I'd be turning…the whole galaxy…into **Reapers.**"

"You would turn the whole galaxy into perfect, fully-evolved organisms – beings with extraordinary life spans, beings dedicated to peace and harmony, beings that can construct a society a thousand times greater than any before it. Instead of working to destroy you, the Reapers would be working beside you – and you will not regret it."

"If…**if**…I agreed to this…**thing**…how would I…"

"You would follow the same procedure is if you wished to control the Reapers. The Crucible would be configured for matter-energy conversion. It is considerably more…_complicated_…than dispersing a control wave to the Reapers. When the synthesis wave contacts organic matter, it materializes and embeds a network based on your implants. When the synthesis wave contacts synthetic material, it materializes organic matter based on your DNA. Unlike control, however…" The Catalyst's eyes flickered. "Your existence, corporeal or otherwise, would be terminated. You would 'live on' in the make-up of all the organisms who come after you, but that is all."

_See? I knew I wouldn't like what he had to say._ "Is there anything else I can do? A song and dance? A comedy routine?" asked Shepard, attempting to be glib but in reality feeling totally despondent.

"You could always walk away," said the Catalyst, smiling. "You can watch the show unfold, witness the end of your galactic civilization. At any rate, if the Crucible is destroyed then I will have no reason to maintain the mass effect fields on this platform. At least the decompression would kill you faster than your current rate of organ failure. And, I say this from experience, it is better for you if you die at the beginning than to linger on into the later stages of the harvest. "

"I'm not walking away from this. Sorry to disappoint you."

"A pity," replied the Catalyst, his smile dissolving into a frown.

"I thought you were bound to assist me," answered Shepard, feeling frustrated and a little curious.

"I _am_ bound to serve you. The Crucible's constraints do not forbid me from expressing any desire for my creators to prevail over you." It smirked. "At any rate Commander, there is nothing more to discuss. You have reached another _Destiny Ascension_, another Collector Base, and I can imagine that this time things are far more complicated than in those situations. You know what you must do."

Shepard closed her eyes in despair.

_I have to make a choice._

* * *

She could destroy all synthetic life in the galaxy. The Reapers would be destroyed, gone forever. But so would the geth. So would EDI. Could mass genocide be excused in defense of galaxy, to say nothing of nullifying all the work those beings had done to gain their freedom and sentience?

She could nuke the shields and hope that the combined might of the galaxy would be enough to overcome the Reapers. From what the Catalyst said (and she was inclined to believe it), it would just let the Reapers kill them faster. And if they _did_ win, would the survivors have a galaxy still worth living in?

She could take control of the Reapers…be one with them…do whatever she willed: rebuild, destroy, whatever she willed. But could she really become that which she hated most? And could they be…**redeemed** through her, after countless millennia of violence.

Then there was synthesis – it could bring about a new world, a perfect world. But could people really live…truly _live_…in a perfect world? Could life truly grow and evolve in the absence of all the conflicts, horrible though some of them were, that challenged our beliefs? And did she have any right to force "evolution" on an entire galaxy?

_Make a choice._ What the hell kind of choices were these? Were they even really _her_ choices?

_What do I choose? _**How**_ can I choose?_

It was an impossible decision.

"Commander Shepard? I am sorry to interrupt, but you have 90 seconds until the Crucible's shields fail. Your time has run out. If you're going to make a decision, you must do it now."

Shepard stared at the arcing beam of light from the Crucible.

She watched the flames of battle bloom and blossom in Earth's atmosphere.

She closed her eyes again, hoping, and for the first time in _years_, praying for a revelation…

_And then she knew_.

Korana's eyes snapped open.

She clenched her good fist in resolution.

She turned to face the Catalyst, her eyes ablaze with purpose.

**_"With our choices, we control our own destiny."_**

The Catalyst smiled. "As you say, Commander."

Shepard heard the clanking and humming of machines powering up overhead.

"Configuring Crucible matter-energy conversion platform." The holographic panels around her winked out. "Opening mass relay FTL comm channels. Calculating energy residuals. Uploading program for targeting sequence optimization." The boy's image began to flicker away and the Catalyst gave her one last look.

"Good luck Commander Shepard."

* * *

It was the end of her life, and Shepard found herself cold and alone.

At least, that's the way it seemed, until she felt the hands on her shoulders.

And finally bloody tears began to fall from her eyes, because she knew who was standing behind her, their faces wrought with proud smiles.

_Kaidan. Mordin. Zaeed. Thane. Legion. Garrus. Anderson. They're all here. They all came back._

She could feel an eerie, calming strength flow into her – just enough for one last push.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Th-thank you, all of y-"

_Her lips barely brushed against the back of Korana's neck_.

Shepard doubled over and let out strangled sob, but it didn't matter, because they had come and Liara had said goodbye, and now she was finally ready to do the same.

She took a shuddering breath (a _painful_ one, too; her nerves resurrecting themselves for one last twist of the knife), stood up and stretched out her good arm.

"O-one."

_She'd never have walked all the way to the glowing pillar of light._

"T-two."

_But Korana Shepard was a Vanguard._

**"Three."**

_And Vanguards…_

She put one foot forward, gathered every last ounce of her strength, and charged.


End file.
